


You and Me and You, Too

by peacefulboo



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 13:36:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2583278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peacefulboo/pseuds/peacefulboo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Clarke opens her door at 8am on a Sunday morning, she's only slightly surprised that Bellamy has a gorgeous woman with him. At least he brought coffee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coffee Covers a Multitude of Sins

She wakes to a pounding at her door. From the cadence she knows it’s Bellamy and that he probably lost his keys again. Or is drunk. Both are options at — she spares a glance at the clock — eight-fucking-am on a Sunday morning. The second her feet hit the freezing concrete floor she recoils, shivering. She stuffs them into her well worn figuring she’ll put on pants once Bellamy’s inside and not banging on her door. She knows she only has about 20 more seconds before he starts yelling and consequently really pissing off the neighbors, so she rushes to the door. 

“I’m fucking coming, Bellamy. For Pete’s sake, give me a second,” she mutters as she opens lock after lock. She finally swings open the door, giving him her best glare. She stops when she sees he’s brought company. 

She’s gorgeous, all dark eyes and hair and she has a mildly annoyed look on her face as she glances up at Bellamy. Clarke is struck by how fucking stunning the two of them are together, all tucked into each other’s sides as they try and keep warm. 

”I have coffee,” he says, offering her a cup from the cart that sits outside her building. “Large with two creamers, yeah?”

She nods and takes the cup before stepping back to let them in the door. She’s recently dropped the sugar that she’d taken in her coffee for years. Bellamy kisses her quickly as he passes by, then guides the woman into the open space. 

“Hi. I’m Clarke,” she introduces herself with a wisp of a smile. She’s known Bellamy since they were twelve years old. She doesn’t expect him to make introductions. 

“Raven Reyes,” she says her name like Clarke should already know who she is. 

She doesn’t. 

Bellamy clears his throat. “We met last month at that guest lecture in Brandt. The one about —“

“Art and mathematics. I wanted to go to that one.” She’d had work until close that night and a test the next morning. Plus she’d seen Dr. Shipka give a similar TED Talk. 

”Yeah. It was totally right up your alley. The second I saw her I thought she’d be perfect.” He smiles big, first at Clarke and then at Raven. 

Again, he makes it sound like she should have a clue what he’s talking about but she doesn’t, so she motions for him to clarify as she takes a sip of her coffee. The contrast of the warmth of the coffee and the draft on her bare legs startles her, so she holds up her drink to cut him off as he starts to explain. 

“Hold that thought. I need pants.” 

“Don’t bother on my account.” Raven murmurs giving Clarke an appreciative if someone startling smile. 

“Cold,” she replies, backing out of the main space and over to the are of the loft that she has sectioned off for a bedroom. She cocks her head and raises her eyebrows, before adding, “But, noted.”

Bellamy and Raven settle on the warn-out, avocado, velour sofa Clarke had rescued when they’d cleaned out her Grandmother’s place a few years back. Clarke dresses quickly, pulling on some leggings and throwing her hair up in a quick bun to get it out of her face. She shoves her feet back into her slippers before padding over to the kitchen and rummaging through her cupboards. 

“All I have are some chocolate chip cookies —they have pecans — and some chips and salsa. It’s good salsa at least.” She shrugs and takes the food over to the sitting area, sets the food down on her coffee table and the settles into a dark purple over-stuffed love seat, tucking her feet under her. “Okay. Now explain what you meant.”

“She’s perfect for you.” Bellamy states before dipping a chip in the styrofoam to-go cup of salsa. 

“I’m what?” Raven looks over at Bellamy, now appearing just as confused as Clarke. 

“Yeah, that still isn’t helping.”

“She’s looking for a place to live, you’re looking for a roommate. And she’s cool and hot as hell. She’d be perfect for the painting.” Bellamy rubs his hand over Raven’s knee while taking a drink of coffee. He winks at Raven, who looks like she’s about ready to punch him in the throat. 

“What the fuck, man. You didn’t talk to her about any of this before bringing me over?” Raven’s voice is low, but a closing in on incredulous. 

“No. He’s right. You’re fucking stunning. You’d be perfect.” Clarke moves to crouch in front of them, peering at the woman in front of her. Her hair is spilling out of a red, crocheted hat, a riot of slightly frizzed waves obviously made from a recent braid. Her eyes are incredibly dark and pissed and her mouth is set like she’s still deciding whether or not to deck Bellamy in the gut. 

“Come here, come here!” Clarke grabs her hand and leads her over to the windows where there’s slightly better light, though the sun hasn’t risen high enough to get passed the tall building next door. “I bet you have an amazing smile.” 

Raven isn’t completely convinced she was supposed to hear that last bit. Mostly she’s just confused and a little cranky and she may have had amazing sex last night but this whole situation is getting to be a little too weird, even for her. “I’m glad you’re both on the same page, but what the hell does my appearance have to do with renting a room — a room that you don’t even seem to have — from you?” She turns to Bellamy, “You both are freaking me the fuck out a little, so I think I’m gonna pass and try and catch a cab.”

“Wait. Sorry. Yes. Weird. We’re very, very…sorry.” Clarke takes her hand. “I do kind of have a room back there,” She points toward a little alcove tucked back behind the kitchenette. “It’s more of a space than a room. But we could curtain it off or put up more screens.”

Raven nods her head but stays stiffly standing. “That’s nice and all but I still don’t get what my smile or attractiveness has to do with being roommates.”

“I still haven’t seen your smile but, you’re right. It has little to nothing to do with living here or not living here. I paint. I was going to start looking for a model to pose for my senior project. And you’re fucking perfect.”

“Model? I’m not a model.” Raven spits out the word “model” like it’s vomit. 

“No, no. That’s fine. You don’t have to be a model for this to work. I just need to have you sit in a few poses. I’d take reference photos. Maybe some video. I’d pay. Not much, but I’d pay. Or maybe we can work out a rent thing. Either way, you’d be compensated for your time.”

“Is this a naked thing?” Raven asks. 

“Yes. More or less. I could maybe make it work if that’s a deal breaker.”

Raven pauses for a few moments. She looks around the space, wanders toward the alcove to look around the space. There’s a tall but narrow window and a small window seat. There’s not much space but it could work. From what she can tell the place is clean, if a little cluttered. It smells mostly like paint and turpentine and chalk, but that’s better than dust and mildew. 

As she turns back toward the living space she gasps. There’s a large, floor-to-ceiling mural on a windowless wall that she had been facing away from whens he sad down. It was nearly all in shades of grey with touches of blue and green and a hint of purple here and there. At first it seemed to be a view of space — maybe a galaxy — but as she really looks, she can see the profile of a woman’s face on the right, and the swirls of stars and stardust are what make up her hair flowing back behind her. It’s mesmerizing and she shakes her head a bit before looking back at Clark.

“That’s your work?”

Clarke, who has been fixated on Raven’s profile as she looks at the mural, is a little startled by the question, and nods in the affirmative. 

Raven looks back at Clarke for a moment and then reaches to grab her bag off the couch. 

“Let me know how much you’re wanting for rent. Bellamy has my number.” Raven states as she walks toward the door. “I’m gonna head back to my aunt’s house now. It was nice to meet you. Strange, though.”

“Wait! Um. Let me get you my card.” She grabs her knapsack and digs around for her card case. “It has my number and email. Let me know if you’re game for either the space or sitting for me. Or whatever.” 

Clarke is never this pushy. But she’s got an overwhelming feeling that if she lets this girl go, she’ll miss out on something big. She’s just not entirely sure what that something is yet. 

Raven takes the card and slips it into her back pocket. “Will do.” 

Clarke leads her back to the door, holding it open as Raven leaves. Raven brushes her arm as she passes by and Clarke has a weird desire to reach out and grab her hand, but she refrains. 

“Oh and it’s not a deal breaker,” Raven states, her voice low. “The naked thing isn’t a deal breaker.” She cocks her head and raises her eye brows with a smirk. 

“That’s good. That’s really, really good,” Clarke replies, equally quiet. 

Raven nods and then turns to head down the hallway toward the stairs. 

Clarke closes the door and slowly locks all four locks on her door before walking into the sitting area. She plops down onto the sofa, practically landing on top of Bellamy. 

“I told you she was perfect,” he tells her with a grin. 

“You slept with her, yeah?” Clarke asks. 

“Much of the last couple of weeks, yes.” He runs his hands through her hair as she settles against his chest. She’s been busy. It’s her fifth and final year of undergrad and she’s finally on track to graduate in the spring with a dual fine arts and biochemistry degrees. It’s been even more brutal and demanding than she anticipated and sometimes she curses herself for working so fucking hard to convince the Dean of each college to make the exception. 

“Tell me about her.”

“She’s kinda serious. A little sarcastic. She works on classic cars at her uncle’s garage so she smells like motor oil half the time but it’s kind of a turn on. She has her degree in something tech-y. Or maybe engineering? I can never remember. But she really enjoys working on old cars.” 

Clarke laughs at that. “You hate cars.”

“I do.” Yet he sounds so mesmerized by her. It’s kind of adorable to see.

“What else.”

“I don’t know. She can be a jerk sometimes but she’s got an intelligence that reminds me of you. It’s obvious and subtle a the same time. And she can be sweet when she lets herself be.”

“A month, huh?”

“Is that okay?”

“Of course. We agreed to see other people. As long as you’re not skipping condoms and don’t parade them in my face, I don’t give a fuck right now.” Clarke sits up and kisses him on the jaw. “But please. Feel free to bring her around more.”

Bellamy chuckles.

They spend the rest of the morning wrapped around each other on the couch sleeping lightly. 

He has to head off to his second job slinging beer at a small brewpub a couple of blocks from Clarke’s place so he takes off just after noon. 

Clarke studies for her organic chem final for a few hours before switching to working on studying for art history. It’s slow going since all she wants to do is grab her pencils and sketch book and draw the fuck out of Raven’s face, but Clarke’s nothing if not disciplined so she puts that on the back burner until she’s gone through her flash cards enough times that she can more or less predict what the answer will be before she fully reads the question. 

Even then she doesn’t go straight to sketching. She takes the time to clean her kitchen and bathroom, set out her clothes and jewelry for the next day, text her mom back letting her know they’re on for dinner this coming wednesday and then run down to the bodega on the corner for some bread, peanut butter and honey. 

After she’s eaten she finally allows herself to pick up her sketch book and pencils and let her hands do what they’ve been wanting to do for the last six hours. She’s never been the best at working from memory. Her imagination is vivid and her art tends toward the whimsical. She’s great at getting her own creations from her head to the page or canvas — or her favorite, walls — but she’s never been great at drawing actual people. Sometimes the challenge is frustrating and pisses her off and as much as she hates it, she has to finish a project not because it’s done but because her deadline demands. 

But sometimes the challenge is exhilarating and fun and all she wants to do is keep trying until she gets it right. This is one of those times. 

She finally stops for the night at ten past midnight, which is way later than normal for a Sunday. Clarke despises being sleep deprived if she can help it, and she can almost always help it. She’s just about to crawl into bed when she hears the email notification tone go off on her phone. 

Clarke smiles the second she reads it. 

_Lets talk logistics. For both the “room” and the modeling thing. Want to meet for coffee on Tuesday? Or maybe lunch?_

_\- R_


	2. Chapter 2

Raven Reyes is a lot of things, but patient isn’t exactly one of them. Scratch that. She is patient as hell when she’s physically working on a tough job. She enjoys attacking a project and just putting everything she has into it until it’s done. She hates interruptions and loathes when it’s other people holding her up. People suck. 

Most people. 

There’s been something about Bellamy that’s suited her from the beginning. Their dates are low key, bordering on boring. They’re an early dinner at the cafe down the street from her uncle’s garage, or coffee at the shop that Octavia, Bellamy’s self-absorbed but still infectiously good natured sister, works at most days. Sometimes they go for a walk in one of the larger parks that lies almost equidistant between her family’s shared townhouse and Bellamy’s apartment. Neither feels much of a need to talk much usually. They’re both more curious in how life works than in how people work. That much is evident in the relationship from the start. 

Their first meeting sets the pace for the rest of their relationship, really. He happens to sit next to her, the small lecture hall full - at least three classes have strongly suggested students attend, and two more required it for a grade - and he comes in late. She’s seated on the edge, but the second seat in her row is open so he slides in next to her. He’s kind of a tall man with fairly broad shoulders, plus the bulk of his jacket, so she scoots a little to the right, putting another inch or so between their torsos. 

The lecture is interesting enough, but neither of them are there by choice and Raven’s tired enough to nod off a couple of times. His quiet chuckles, emanating from deep in his chest, wake her and she just shoots him a pointed look that shuts him up, but doesn’t keep the smile off his lips. 

He’s radiating heat in the cold room, and she’s close enough to know he smells like a half-gone day and all dude. Normally she’s not very drawn to men. She enjoys their company and fucking is fun but she’s surrounded by guys day in day out, hell she’s only one of two females in her generation in her family and the other is her Aunt Ariana’s six-year-old Ximena. She’s a good kid but they don’t exactly have much in common. 

Still, halfway through the lecture, she’s relaxed enough that she can now feel her shoulder brushing up against his and he doesn’t flinch or show any sign that he cares, so she relaxes, allowing Dr. Shipka’s cadence to lull her into a doze once again. 

She wakes with a start when the audience applauds, taken aback that her head is resting against his arm. His jacket is a scratchy material and she knows there are probably marks on her forehead but she doesn’t care. For those ten minutes, she felt warm and comfortable and those aren’t feelings she’s had often for the last decade. 

“Sorry,” she whispers to him, running her hand through her hair and leaning down to gather her bag. 

“Not a problem,” he replies. 

She nods to him once and then turns away from him and head down the steps toward the door. There’s a bit of a logjam getting out so she shuffles out slowly with the rest of them. She can feel his heat at her back but she doesn’t turn to confirm that he’s there. She shudders when they make it into the hallway, the outer door has been open for the last few minutes and the wind is bringing the 20 degree air into the building. 

As soon as they’re out of the building, he moves walking behind her to walking beside her. She’s appreciates it. 

“So I was going to head to The Grounds over off Ellison. Want to come with?” He sounds strong and sure, like he knows she’ll come with him but that he doesn’t really care either way. It’s not bravado or machismo. It’s just confidence. It’s fucking attractive and she’s tempted to tell him no, just to see if she’s right. But she doesn’t, especially since she was already planning on stopping at The Grounds for some of their house Chai. 

“Sure,” she replies. 

The walk along the sidewalk in silence for a couple of blocks and she shivers violently every time there’s a gust of wind. After the third time he runs his hand up her arm and across her shoulders, pulling her into his side. 

“This okay?” He asks as they keep walking. 

“You’re warm, so yeah.”

He smiles down at her and drops a kiss to the top of her head as they keep walking. It’s all so strange and intimate to her but none of the usual red flags are being raised in her head. And she’s got a lot of flags to raise on a normal day. Something about him is so comfortable and relaxed that she can’t help but lean in. 

They get to the coffee shop quickly and he leads her to a small booth in the back near one of the two fires they have in the shop. It’s a new location, and there are five other well established coffee shops and cafe’s within a mile radius, two of them Starbucks, so they don’t have trouble finding seats, despite being so close to campus. The coffee and teas are good here but the wifi’s spotty most days, so they tend to have a small clientele that sit in the cafe for any real length of time. Raven herself tends to duck in, get her tea or coffee and then head back out, either to class or work. 

“What can I order for you?” he asks. 

“Oh.” She looks up to check and see who’s manning the bar and smiles. Looks like Octavia’s on tonight and Octavia’s the best at getting the her drink right. “Just tell Octavia - she’s the one at the bar - for a medium chai for Raven. She knows how to make it.” 

He smiles a little wider at that than he has the whole night, “Be right back.”

He’s not even all the way to the counter when Octavia turns and spots him. “Bells!” She jumps up and rests her belly on the counter between them and he leans over to hug her. It’s affectionate and sweet. “How was the lecture?” She asks as she slides back down and heads over to the drip station and pours a cup of black coffee. 

“It was okay. Nothing groundbreaking but I didn’t fall asleep this time.” He turns toward Raven and winks at her. “Can you get me a medium chai, too. For Raven?” He’s still looking toward Raven and she nods her head in confirmation. 

Octavia leans over the counter to look over toward Raven. “Hey girl! What are you doing with this idiot?!”

Raven shrugs in response. She has no idea what she’s doing with this idiot. So far all she knows is he’s a good heater. 

“I’ll bring your drink in a sec.”

Octavia whispers something to Bellamy and he raises an eyebrow at her and but nods his head in agreement. 

“What kind of name is Bells?” Raven asks as he motions for her to get out of the booth so he can sit on the inside. She’s confused at first but complies. She’s glad when she sits and realizes he’s situated them so she’s closer to the warmth of the fire and she can get out of the booth without having to ask him to move. 

“Bellamy Blake,” he tells her, putting out his hand to shake hers. 

“Raven Reyes,” she replies shaking his hand. 

“You come here often?” She looks over to where Octavia is steaming milk for her chai. 

“My sister works the bar most days and has no qualms with giving me discounts when she isn’t supposed to. It’s good.”

“You’re sweet to her.” She states. 

“She’s one of my best friends.” 

Raven files that away. She has no siblings and her mom and dad have been gone since she was 12. Her cousins are nice to her, Josue even taught her most of what she knows about cars and machine work, but they tend to just treat her like another brother. She’s more or less very okay with that. 

Octavia brings the chai. She has a smile on her lips but her eyes are curious and maybe a little concerned as she looks at them pressed against each other. 

“Let me know if you need anything else,” she states as she raises her eyebrows at her brother then turns to head back behind the bar. 

Raven looks up at Bellamy and then back to Octavia. Bellamy sighs deeply. “She’s worried about Clarke.” 

“Clarke? Is he your brother?”

Bellamy smiles and shakes his head, “She’s my other best friend.” That’s all he says as he runs his hand up and down her arm. 

Raven takes a sip of her tea and closes her eyes. It’s perfect, lots of cardamom and anise balanced with just enough cinnamon and lots of sugar. 

“You’re sister’s amazing,” she hums out. She’s warming up so she leans a way from him and props her head on her hand, her left elbow resting on the table. She can look at him this way. In the darkened auditorium and the darkened streets on the way to the shop, she hadn’t gotten much of a good look at him. 

He’s definitely not hard to look at. His dark hair’s a little floppy, curing down into his eyes. She can’t tell if he’s trying to grow a beard or just isn’t a daily shaver, but she’d guess he has a couple of days worth of scruff on his jaw. It’s a good look. 

He watches her looking at him for a minute, then takes a drink of his coffee. 

“What are you studying?” He asks. 

She huffs out a loud sigh and cringes. “I’m working on my masters. Mechanical Engineering. Cause I hate myself.” She’s proud of herself, actually. It’s a lot of work and academics are not her happy place. She prefers when she gets to work with her hands and her head, but something in her wants to be the first person in her family to get a graduate degree. 

He cocks his head and looks at her, a curious expression on his face for a moment before nodding. “It suits you.”

It does, so she shrugs back at him. 

“What about you?”

“I’m a librarian.” He takes a drink of his coffee and smiles down at her again. This time she’s the one that looks him over for a little bit before agreeing. 

“It suits you.”

His answering smirk is more attractive than it should be and she’s basically wanted to kiss them since she was first able to really see him. 

So she leans over and kisses him. First it’s a peck. And then it’s a lazy, long kiss. Kind of like they’ve been doing it forever. It’s not particularly heated or deep. Just lips moving against lips. He smiles against her mouth and she breaks the kiss. Without much thought Raven slides out of the booth, offering him her hand. 

****  They end up back at his apartment that night. It’s larger than she expected. They don’t waste time looking around, though. They leave their shoes at the front door, then they both start shedding coats and scarves and gloves as he leads her to his bedroom. 

They don’t make a big production of it. He pulls off his shirt and slides down his pants and underwear in one go and then he’s gorgeously naked in front of her. She scoffs a little when he waggles his eyebrows at her, knowingly.

She rolls her eyes, but peels her shirt and tank off anyway. She’s never been good at seductive.

He reaches out and grabs her hip, pulling her toward him - toward the bed. She sucks in a breath as he rubs his nose down between her breasts while hooking his fingers into her leggings and underwear. He looks up at her once, “We good?”

“Yup.” She doesn’t even hesitate. He drags the material down her legs, tapping her ankle to indicate she needs to step out of her pants. 

She shivers again. She’s turned on as hell — his long fingers trail up her legs and skim against her sides as he kisses just above her breast, his teeth dragging against the skin — but also, the apartment is freezing. 

“Cold?”

“A little,” she admits. 

Bellamy takes a second and stares at her, his eyes dragging from her bare feet on the cold ground, all the way up her goose bump covered belly and breasts before looking directly into her eyes. 

He stands then, the entire length of her body now against his. Raven lets out a low moan, but cuts off when Bellamy turns back toward the bed and pulls back the cover. “Get on in.”

Despite how tired they both were at the beginning of the evening, they get very little sleep that night. 

It’s just the first of many nights she spends under his the covers in his bed before he introduces her to Clarke. His best friend. And partner. 

Maybe they should have said a few more words at some point.


	3. Chapter 3

Raven and Clarke meet for lunch at a diner close to the university. Clarke hugs her when she first sees her and Raven has to stop herself from melting into her arms right then and there. Clarke is all smiles and carries the conversation for the first few moments as she tells Raven about how fucking ridiculous her test was Monday and how glad she’ll be to be done with the semester in a couple of weeks. 

The server comes and takes their drink order, interrupting Clarke’s flow and effectively redirecting the conversation. 

“Bellamy was saying you work in a mechanic shop?”  
“A few days a week. My uncle owns Sanchez Imports over on Milford. We mostly work with German cars.” She shrugs and idly plays with the sweetener packets, organizing and then reorganizing them over and over again. 

The server brings them their coffee and water and takes their food order - Denver omelets with a side of pancakes for Clarke and a bowl of toasted walnut oatmeal and side of bacon for Raven.

Raven decides to broach the topic first. 

“What kind of rent are you wanting to get?” It’s kind of a weird set up, and Raven just hopes Clarke is smart enough to price accordingly. 

“Tell me what you can afford and I’ll tell you if it’ll work.”

Raven tells her a number that’s about $200 less than her hoped for price. Clarke responds, upping it only another hundred dollars and just like that, rent is settled. 

Their food arrives quickly and they eat quietly, and only slightly awkwardly, for a few moments before Clarke starts the conversation again. 

“So, I don’t know if living with me would make the modeling idea more or less comfortable, but feel free to back out if you don’t think it’d work,” Clarke says, biting a little on her lip there at the end. 

“Tell me about the idea,” Raven pushes her mostly finished food to the side and leans against the table, her arms folded in front of her. 

A sweet smile graces Clarke’s face as she shifts in the booth so she’s leaning up against the wall. 

“I’m planning for a series of three life-sized pieces. You know the Maiden, Mother, Crone?” 

Raven nods. 

“I know the concept’s been done to death and everyone thinks their take will be a “fresh” one. I don’t really believe it, though. I mean that’s kind of the point, right? Life is cyclical. Especially for those with a typical female reproductive system.” 

Raven makes a slight face, accompanied by a quiet scoff, which only makes Clarke smile wider. 

“I know. It’s kinda hippie for me, too. But I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. I can’t really get a grip on what it means to be female. Whether male and female are the same as man and woman. I kinda want to explore that a bit, is all. What it means to be a woman. Is it the same as female. Is the female form something to be celebrated? Is the female spirit. Ugh. It’s stupid. Or it’s not, it’s actually pretty important to me. Which is why I want to paint it.” 

Raven looks directly at Clarke then. She’s a little at sea. Her tia has always worked two jobs and they’re not particularly close. In truth, Raven’s rarely been close to anyone, much less a female. The reality of what living with a woman, and only a woman, might entail is starting to dawn on her and for a second she considers backing out of all of it. 

But she can’t. Something about this freaking woman in front of her has her undivided attention. She has no doubt that there will be days when Clarke’s energy will overwhelm her, but Raven wonders if maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. 

“Will there be other models?” Raven asks. She’s very, very curious about this project and what her role in it all might be. 

“Yeah. I have someone lined up for the mother and I’m deciding between two for the crone. I just hadn’t found someone I liked for the maiden.”

Raven snorts. She’s no maiden. 

Clarke seems to read her mind and replies, “I don’t buy into virginity as the mark of a maiden. For this project at least, it’s simply a woman in the phase of life that happens before moving on to the mothering stage. And besides, it’s kind of like acting. You don’t have to be the product of the painting, just inspire it.” She punctuates her point with a shrug and downs the last of her coffee. 

Normally Raven would roll her eyes if someone talked at any length about womanhood or maidenhood or any of the things that seem to light Clarke up but this time she isn’t really tempted. While Clarke’s not lacking enthusiasm, she’s got an openness about her that is all kindness and warmth. There’s not an ounce of challenge in her approach to the subject, so Raven does her best to absorb her new roommate’s words and tuck them away to think about later. Or to not think about as the case may be. 

“So that’s my project. I’m hoping you’ll be up for it, but no worries if you’re not. I’ll figure it out.” Clarke pauses, cocks her head to the side and says the words Raven has dreaded for most of her life, “Tell me about you.”

Raven tenses a little and offers her standard response. “There’s not much to know. I’m kind of boring really. School, engines, sleep, food,” she states with just a hint of ice in her voice. Not enough to sound rude, but enough to discourage further inquiry. 

“What are you studying?” Clarke asks. 

So much for no further inquiry. 

“Mechanical Engineering. I’ve got a year or so left of my masters.” 

“Do you love it?”

“School?” Raven huffs out a sigh. “Not really. It’s okay and some classes are better than others, but it’s never going to be something I’m excited about.”

“Then why do you do it?” Clarke sounds genuinely curious.

“Honestly? Because I can. And I’m good enough at it to not be completely miserable. It seems foolish to have all this knowledge out there about something I actually dig doing, and not have some of that knowledge for myself.”

Of course that’s only part of the truth. Raven is an abandoned girl being who was raised by her first generation Mexican family. She’s lucky they took her in and she’s grateful but she’s aware that she needs every advantage she can get if she’s going to make it in her field. Getting her masters is a huge part of that. 

“Do you enjoy working at the garage?” 

Raven pauses for a moment, looking down and tapping a few packets of sugar against the table as she decides how to answer that question. 

Clarke senses her hesitation and really looks at her, finally seeming to pick up on Raven’s reluctance to say much about herself. Clarke reaches out and lays her fingers along Raven’s hand and wrist saying, “We’ve got all the time in the world to know each other. Feel free to tell me to stop with the questions. Lord knows Bell does all the time.”

Raven starts a little at Clarke’s touch, but when Clarke begins to pull her hand back in response, Raven turns her hand palm up and clasps Clarks hand for a second, squeezing it for a second before releasing it and sitting back. 

“I like working at the garage. I wouldn’t mind working with fewer people I’m related to, but they gave me a job when I knew jack shit, and I try and not be a jerk about how it can get a little boring there.” Raven enjoys working on engines, but for the most part she sees the same problems come in over and over. There’s some variation and she always gets a small kick of excitement when a particularly hard job ends up successful, but ninety percent of the time, she can do the maintenance in her sleep. 

“Can I ask you another question.”

Raven’s initial reaction is to decline but one look at Clarke’s face and she’s caving. “Shoot.”

“Do you want to move in tonight?” Clarke smiles big and bright and her enthusiasm is so damn infectious. 

Raven almost says yes. 

“I have work and Ximena’s birthday is tomorrow so we’re doing a party. And the rest of the week is pretty insane as well.” She’s surprised to find that instead of finding Clarke’s curiosity and enthusiasm off putting, she’s instead a little disappointed that she won’t get to move in till Sunday at the earliest. 

“Bummer,” Clarke deflates just a touch. “I’ll be around all this weekend so just text me when you’ve got a plan?”

“Sounds good.” 

They gather their belongings, and drop some cash on the table for their server. 

Clarke hugs her again as they leave, squeezing her tight before dashing off to her car. Raven watches as she leaves before getting into her own vehicle and driving off in the opposite direction.  
***  Bellamy shows up at Clarke’s apartment that night just before bedtime. She kisses him deep and long in greeting and when they pull apart Bellamy looks at her, questioning. 

She doesn’t reply, simply leading him over to her bed and begins pushing his jacket off his shoulders. He catches on quickly and soon they’re both naked. 

Their coupling is quiet and comfortable and profound. After nearly a decade of exploring they can play each other’s bodies like fiddles and it’s exactly what they need after almost a month of nothing more than passing kisses. 

“I’ve missed that,” Bellamy murmurs into her hair as they dose off wrapped around each other after. 

“Me too,” she replies, kissing his shoulder and tucking her face into his neck and breathing him in as deep as she can. Bellamy is the definition of warmth for her. 

And she has always been a safe place to land for him. 

So they sleep the sleep of the dead like they so often do and in the morning they wake at sunrise. 

Clarke heads to the bathroom and Bellamy heads toward the kitchen to start the coffee before climbing back into bed. Clarke may need to be at a meeting on campus at 8:30am but Bellamy has nowhere to be till noon. 

Clarke takes her shower right away and decides it’s too damn cold to wash her hair so her time in the shower is quick. She dries off before pulling on her ridiculously huge bathrobe and padding to the kitchen. She brings her coffee and laptop back to the bed. 

“Want to do something with my hair, Bellamy?” she asks quietly on the off chance he’s actually sleeping and not just laying there with his eyes closed. 

“Hmm.” He agrees, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. 

Clarke has no trouble admitting how the sound warms her. She turns so she’s sitting cross-legged facing the middle of the bed while Bellamy gets up and pulls on his jeans and sweater. Clarke may be a winter girl at heart, but the one time she misses summer is when Bellamy has to get dressed in the early morning instead of moving around the room buck ass naked. 

Once he’s warm enough and has grabbed an elastic from her nightstand, Bellamy combs his fingers through her tangled curls. She moans a few times when he works out some snarls and he just chuckles. When he hits a particularly bad one a little to fast, she hisses and reaches back to hit his thigh. 

“Fuck. Ouch, Bell,” She bites out. 

He just rolls his eyes in response. “I could stop.”

She just leans her head back so he can see the glare she’s giving him. 

He makes quick work of detangling her hair enough to be able to braid it and asks, “What are we doing?”

“Just give me a tight-ass french braid. I don’t have time today to be messing with gorgeously deconstructed.” 

“One or two?”

“Ugh. Two will last longer. I’ll look like a child but since it’s Wednesday I don’t freaking care.”

He grunts in agreement and starts parting her hair. 

She winces twice and has to suck a breath in through her teeth twice before he’s done with the first one. Bellamy learned how to braid on a squirming six-year-old Octavia who would barely wince when he pulled her stick straight, thick as anything hair into braids tight enough to last through her rough and tumble days in elementary school. Since a six-year-old could deal, he has no sympathy for a grown woman. 

He’s halfway through the first braid when she opens her mouth again and pretty much immediately regrets it. 

“Have you told her about us?” It’s not the question she regrets, so much as the timing. The question needs to be asked but depending on his answer asking right before she has to leave, and while he has her hair in his hands is probably a flawed plan. Or would be if there’d been any sort of actual plan. 

“Not exactly,” he replies. 

“What, exactly, does not exactly mean?” She knows better than to turn toward him when he’s in the middle of doing her hair but the desire to see his face so she can gauge him better is strong. 

“I mean not exactly,” he repeats. 

“Are you actually going to make me pull this out of you, Bell? She’s moving into this space in 4 days. She should know we sleep together. And it should come from you, since you’re the one that’s sleeping with her.”

“I fucking know that, Clarke,” he bites out tiredly and ties off the first braid.

She goes ahead and turns so her legs are hanging off the edge of the bed and tries to look him in the eye but he keeps his gaze firmly over head.

“Bellamy Blake. Stop shitting me and tell me what the hell has you avoiding this?” She grasps his hands in hers and tugs at them in an attempt to coax him to look at her. “What’s got you spooked?”

He brings one of her hands up to his lips and kisses the knuckles. Then lets go and sits next to her on the bed before letting his body fall back so he’s lying on the bed and staring at the rafters. 

“What do you think will happen when I tell her?” he asks, though his tone indicates he already knows the answer. 

“I have no idea, Bellamy. I haven’t really been able to get a read on her.” Clarke lays back beside him, despite her half-done hair and waits for him to talk, knowing he’s gathering his thoughts. There was a time, when they were teenagers, when he would say whatever popped to his mind. Sometimes it was brilliance and sometimes it was cruel and occasionally it was both. He’s tempered some since then, he thinks a little before he speaks or acts. 

Sometimes she misses the more impulsive boy he was. Sometimes she wonders if that’s just her coveting his restraint. Clarke has a methodical, unhurried side to her when she works but she regrets her words more often than she’d like. 

“I don’t even know what I’d want her to do,” he admits, then turns to look at her profile. 

Something about his wistful tone startles Clarke

“Wait. You’re really into her, aren’t you?” 

“I think so, yeah,” he admits. 

“So when you say you haven’t talked to her, does she at least know you’re not exclusive?” She knows he’s not an asshole. But sometimes he is by accident. Bellamy is a perceptive man in a lot ways but he occasionally persists in assuming that everyone else in the world is just as perceptive and that he doesn’t need to explicitly state things that should be explicitly stated. 

“We agreed to that the first night,” he replies. 

“And she knows that after a month, that still holds?”

“Clarke, she knows we’re seeing other people.” He was done with this conversation before it started so he rolls off the foot of the bed and moves to stand back at the side again, motioning for Clarke to get into position so he can finish the other side of her hair. 

“Good. But she needs to know that we’re together. Like together, together.” Clarke can’t help but add the emphasis. Something about the way he’s talking about Raven puts her off balance. 

Bellamy, to his credit, picks up on it. “I’ll tell her tonight.”

He finishes the braid quickly and leaves Clarke to finish getting ready. He makes her toast, adding butter and plum jelly, then fills her thermos with coffee and a little half and half, before pouring himself a bowl of cereal. 

When he peers into the open door of the bathroom, he notices she’s putting on some chapstick and smiles fondly. He’ll never understand why she puts it on right before she eats.  
They eat quickly and soon she’s pulling on her sweater and jacket and scarf and hat, her mittens peeking out of the inside pocket of her jacket. 

He follows her to the door, pulling her into his arms just before she steps out. 

“I love you.” He squeezes her tighter before letting go. 

“I know you do, Bell.” She pushes up on her toes and kisses him firmly. “I love you, too. So you need to tell her. Tonight. Cause you were right and she’s kind of awesome and I’d rather not lose the chance to know her. And I think that’s why you’re hesitating.”

“We’ll talk tonight, Clarke,” he says. “And you’re going to be late,” he reminds her, bumping her with his hip and smiling at her. 

“Text me or call once your done, yeah?” Clarke asks as she backs down the hallway toward the stairwell. 

“I will if I can,” he replies, raising his eyebrows in emphasis. 

“Whenever you get a chance,” she agrees before heading down the steps and starting what promises to be a very long and tedious day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was a little more transition-y than I'd have liked but there ya go. You can find me at tumblr under the peacefulboo url/username. Come find me and we can maybe be buddies. Or you can tell me how horribly strange and off Clarke is in this fic. Spoiler alert: I know. And it just keeps happening so I'm rolling with it. Next chapter will be Raven and Bellamy. And maybe some more Raven and Clarke. Who knows.


	4. Chapter 4

Normally Bellamy hates nights when they have some important, hard to get game on their screens at the brewpub, but tonight he’s fucking stoked that they’re busy as hell. It’s mostly non-regulars, which keeps the chitchat down, and if he’s pouring more of their blandest brews than normal, at least his hands are busy. 

Raven texts at quarter to 10:00 to tell him she’s on her way and he has to keep himself from feigning tiredness or coming up with some other excuse to not have this damn conversation. 

Cause he knows it’s going to be shitty. Raven’s awesome. Or at least she’s awesome for him. She’s smart and brutally honest, when she chooses to open her mouth. And she has been opening her mouth lately. She took a bit to crack, but so did he. They’re kindred spirits really - the same traits and characteristics expressed in completely different ways. 

Now he knows that she wants to work on jets some day. He knows that she’s starting to really commit to getting her PhD which he’s not to talk about because it’s insanely daunting for her to really think about it. Plus she says just the idea makes her feel like an elitist snob. He knows that she’s going to miss Ximena the most when she moves out - though she hasn’t said so in as many words. She just gets a sort of wistful quality to her voice whens he mentions her little cousin, and it’s frankly adorable and a little strange to his ears. He knows that she giggle-snorts when he touches anywhere below her ankles. He knows she’s a quiet lover. She doesn’t talk much when they’re in bed together and she barely gasps when she comes, but then, Clarke is quiet, too. 

Which, fuck. He feels uneasy when he thinks about either of them when in the presence of the other. Which is a new feeling. Bellamy always, always thinks about Clarke when he’s with other women. And he generally doesn’t feel guilty. She’s his touchstone. His standard. She’s his girl. But it feels different when it happens with Raven. It feels a few steps closer to a betrayal. 

“What’s it take to get a little attention in here?”

Despite his nerves, he still cracks a smile as he turns away from where he’s washing some glasses and sees her sitting at the bar. 

“Your usual?” he asks. Raven’s been here a couple of times a week and has stuck with the same beer she first tried, a honey wheat ale that’s good but definitely not his favorite. At her nod, he turns to pour her beer before facing her again and placing the glass on a paper coaster in front of her. 

“It’s busy tonight,” she mentions, looking around at the full tables and mostly full bar. 

“Yup. But the game’s over so most of them will move on to McGilligin’s soon.”

“And they’ll hopefully live to regret that choice in the morning.” McGilligin’s is a bar knowing for it’s cheap well liquor and a willingness to serve anyone with cash. 

“You know it,” he agrees.

He helps some other customers for a bit, coming back into her orbit every ten minutes or so but he spends most of his time closing out tickets since his prediction is right and most everyone moves on to stronger alcoholic pastures within the hour. He’s not closing tonight, so when the place has cleared out, Kelly and Mark, the other two working, tell him to head out.

He grabs Raven’s hand and laces their fingers together as they walk out. She gives him a curious look but doesn’t let go. It’s a warmer night, but still pretty damn cold, so she’s huddles in toward him as they make their way to the car in silence. 

The drive to his apartment is quick enough that he doesn’t even bother turning on the heater and by the time they get there, Raven’s shivering. It makes him frown. 

As soon as they step in through the door, he heads to the kitchen and grabs a bottle of wine - Barefoot Pinot Noir; cheap, more or less drinkable. He’s picky about his beer but considerably less so about his wine. Raven stands in the doorway to the kitchen, jacket unbuttoned but still on, and leans against the door jam, staring at him like she knows she’s missing something. 

“You’ve been off all night, Blake. What gives?” she asks with a jerk of her head and a raised eyebrow. She’s got her “I don’t give a fuck” face on, but he knows better. If she didn’t give a fuck, she wouldn’t ask. 

“Clarke’s my partner,” he states. Like that isn’t the most vague-ass statement in this context.

“You’ve said that before.” Raven stands up straight and cocks her head to the head aside, staring at him even harder. 

“Yeah.” He sighs and grabs the bottle of wine and two glasses and takes them into his small living room, setting them on the coffee table. Even cheap wine improves with breathing, but they definitely don’t have the time for that, so he pours some into both glasses and sits his ass down onto one side of the couch. 

Raven takes her scarf off as she takes a seat and leans forward to grab her wine glass, but still leaves her jacket on. 

“So you fuck her then? That’s what you’re saying, right?” There’s a hint of steel to her voice and she takes a big gulp of her wine. 

It’s not exactly how he would have put it. “We’re sex partners, yes. But we’re together.”

“She’s your girlfriend?” she asks. There’s a hint of confusion in her voice that he isn’t expecting. It makes her sound too fucking vulnerable. 

“We don’t call it that, but sure. We’ve been together since I was 17 and she was 15.”

“What the fuck, Bellamy? What the hell are you doing with me, then?” 

That wasn’t the question he was prepared for. 

“What do you mean?” he asks, and he knows it’s a dumb question as soon as the words leave his mouth. 

“Why the hell are you fucking me if you have a fucking girlfriend? Who you introduced me to. And who I’m moving in with in two days. Why would you do that to her?” She looks away. “Why would you do that to me?”

There’s a part of him that wants to pretend that he has no clue what she’s talking about. That wants to point out that he and Raven had agreed that they weren’t exclusive. That she doesn’t have any right to be confused, or sad, or pissed. But he’s known how this would look to her since he and Clarke talked this morning. He manages to swallow down his stubborn pride and try to explain to her what she’d landed in. 

“She knows, Raven. We have an open sexual relationship.” He stops and takes a calming sip of his wine before continuing. “She’s my best friend, and I’m hers. We love each other. But we decided a long time ago that we work better when we aren’t each other’s…everything.” It’s more complicated than that. Of course it is, it barely scratches the surface of his relationship with Clarke, the whys and the whens and the hows, but it’s what he can give for now. 

“So you both just have other partners?” She spits the word out like it’s suddenly become poisonous to her. There’s no mistaking what she means. 

“Sexual partners, yes,” he replies. 

Raven takes a second and downs half of the rest of her wine. 

“Just sex partners. You don’t take or have other partner, partners?” she asks quietly. Quietly but her voice is cold and almost clinical now. 

“We never have, no. That’s not really part of how we work,” he admits. 

And sees her deflate. He’s suddenly realizing he’s having this conversation about two weeks too late. Fuck. He’s such an asshole. 

“You’re an asshole, Bellamy.” There’s no passion or heat in her voice. She says it like she’s stating a well known, everyday fact. Like she’s telling him that he has brown hair or that they really could use some rain. 

He doesn’t deny it. 

Raven stands then and begins buttoning up her jacket. She methodically loops her scarf around her neck and puts her gloves back on. 

“It’s been real,” she tells him as she walks toward the door. 

“Raven,” he calls out as he stands and grabs his coat. “Let me drive you back to your car.”

The way she hangs her head tells him that she’d forgotten she didn’t have her car with her. “Yeah. Okay.”

The silence in the car this time is awkward as fuck and there is a panicked queasiness in his gut that he can’t seem to get rid of no matter how many times he swallows. What kills him is that she doesn’t seem to be seething, or sad, or anything that he’d seen hints of in his living room. Her face is blank. Just a complete void of any of the emotion he’d come to be able to read over the last few weeks. 

And he understands, all at once, that he hadn’t actually learned how to read her at all. It wasn’t a skill he had acquired by being around her and getting to know her quirks. It wasn’t something in him at all. It was all her. Raven had let him in. She’d, one by one, been opening the shutters that covered the windows into who she was. She’d let him see in. And he’d really been into what he’d seen. Damn. 

Now all those shutters were once again closed tight and no matter how much he tried to peer through the slats, all he got was a whole lot of nothing. 

***

 

After Bellamy drops her off at her car, Raven manages to more or less put him out of her mind. 

She has her final project to finish before the semester ends and it’s been a fun challenge, but she needs it to start actually coming together, which means she needs to put in more man-hours. 

She comes out of her corral at the library to go to work Thursday evening and then to the family party for Ximena’s 7th birthday. The girl clings to her even more than normal and Raven’s heart cracks a little. Maybe she should stay at her aunt’s. Maybe she should tell Clarke that she’ll have to pass and find a real apartment. She’d have to put in more hours at the shop, but she could do that. 

Except she actually really likes Clarke. And she likes the loft with it’s huge windows and amazing paintings. And despite the complication that Clarke’s relationship with Bellamy presents, she feels compelled to continue on with her plan. 

If it breaks a little girl’s heart, well it won’t be the last time her heart is broken. 

She recognizes that she might be a little bitter. 

Raven moves into the loft on Sunday afternoon. She doesn’t say much as she and her cousins Josue and Raul move in her bed, two bookshelves, a green velour reading chair, and her tall, narrow dresser. She’s also brought rod set and curtain that she plans to install before night’s end. It won’t stop noise from crossing, the ceilings are too high to do anything about that, but it will allow her some type of privacy. Given that she’s just broken off fucking her new roommate’s partner, she figures she’ll need it.

Clarke helps them bring in the bags and boxes but Raven declines when she offers to help unpack. Clarke doesn’t push, which Raven is grateful for. 

She puts her shit away fairly efficiently. Her cousins put together the bed and put up the curtain rod for her, though they know she can do it. Their mom said to be helpful, and they love Raven, so they’re more than willing. Raul keeps the mood light. He has a field day with a couple of nude paintings that Clarke has throughout the space, and Raven doesn’t even try to keep from rolling her eyes. 

Josue, though, is just as impressed with the mural behind the door as Raven had been. 

“Did you do all of these?” Josue asks Clarke, indicating the paintings hanging on the wall. 

“Only two of them,” she replies, pointing out the two that are hers. “The others were done by friends.”

“Did you do that?” he asks, nodding his head toward the mural. 

“Yeah. I did,” Clarke replies, a small smile gracing her lips. 

“It’s good,” he replies. He never was the type to gush. 

Her cousins leave just after sundown and make Raven promise to come to the house for dinner sometime that week. 

She’s putting her clothes away into the dresser when she hears Clarke walking toward her space. 

“Can I come in?” Clarke asks. 

“Sure.” Raven would have preferred a little more time but she honestly doesn’t mind Clarke’s company. Clarke has two bottles of beer in her hands and offers one to Raven. She accepts it with a, “Thanks,” before jerking her head toward the chair, inviting Clarke to come in and sit down. 

“You managed to get a lot of stuff in here,” Clarke says, sounding impressed. 

“We’ve gotten good at furniture Tetris over the years,” Raven acknowledges with a slight smile. 

“This chair is awesome,” Clarke says, bouncing a little, a childlike smile on her face. 

“Tía gave it to me for my birthday last year. It was her mother-in-law’s and she snagged it when the old lady died. She’s always thought it was hideous.”

“She sounds delightful.”

“She can be.” Raven shrugs. She’ll always have a complicated relationship with her aunt. A loving relationship, but complicated. 

“Your cousins were funny, too.” They’d been cracking jokes all afternoon, though Raven was pretty sure the majority of it was in Spanish. 

“They certainly think they’re a riot,” she says only slightly sarcastically. 

She’s not in the mood for Clarke’s brand of gentle prying tonight. Moving, even an easy move like this one, makes her cranky. She’s done putting her clothes away, so she moves over to the box with her books and starts sorting them on the floor in front of her bookshelves. 

“You have a very eclectic reading taste,” Clarke points out as she looks toward the piles of mysteries, fantasy, “literary” novels (whatever the fuck that means), and design and engineering texts. She picks up an Octavia Butler novel and opens her mouth like she’s going to comment on it. 

“Can we not do the thing tonight?” Raven finally bites out. She feels like a huffy teenager as soon as the question is out of her mouth. But she isn't even remotely in the mood for “getting to know you, getting to know all about you,” bullshit right now. 

“Oh! Yeah. Sorry,” Clarke replies, dropping the book back onto its pile and getting up from the chair. “I’ll let you do your thing.” Her reply is quick and quiet and not very Clarke-like. 

“I’m sorry,” Raven starts. “It’s been a long, fucked up week. I’m in a shitty mood and I hate moving.” She realizes she’s justifying herself before deciding that she hasn’t actually done anything that needs justifying, so she stops. 

“No worries,” Clarke says. She smiles at Raven and starts to leave. 

“How can you be okay with all of it?” Raven asks before she can stop herself. 

Clarke stops and turns back to her. “How do you mean?”

“How are you okay with your boyfriend - partner - sleeping with another woman. Other women? A lot.” So maybe tactful isn’t her strong suit right now. Or ever. 

Clark laughs. She sounds genuinely amused, but maybe also a little tired. 

“We play by the same rules, you know.”

And she does know. That doesn’t mean she understand. 

“How can you look at me, knowing that he’s fucked me?” 

“Oh, Raven. You’re a gorgeous woman. And you’re sweet even when you don’t want to be. And you’re smart and interesting and you’re basically everything Bellamy actually likes about people. I might have fucked you had I met you first.” 

“Okay.” She drags the word out as she lets her brain process that little bomb. “Okay. Well, one, I’d have to be down with that. And that’s not really a direction I swing. And two, even if I could get my head around two people in a committed relationship being cool with sleeping with other people, what if it goes further than that? What if he, or you, fall in love with someone else. Or, maybe fall in love is too strong of a word. What if he grows attached to someone else?” She keeps her voice devoid of any real emotion. She isn’t talking about herself. She’s speaking in hypotheticals. 

Clarke comes back into the room and sits on the bed next to Raven. 

“It hasn’t happened,” Clarke replies. “Or at least it had never happened,” she amends. “Look, Bellamy and I fell in love when we were kids. We’re still in love. I adore him. And love him and love being with him in every sense of that word. But I also feel like there’s something missing. And so does he. And it’s not that we couldn’t be happy with just the two of us forever. We just don’t feel the need to force that. Up until now the other lovers have just been about sex. Maybe about affection sometimes, or a different conversation partner,” Clarke trails off. Raven’s pretty sure she knows she failing at making any of it clearer for Raven. 

But then Raven hears what Clarke actually said, “Up until now?”

Clarke sighs. “Bellamy and I could be mostly happy if it was just the two of us forever. But we’d be devastated if we stopped being partners. That will never change. But,” she pauses, “we both have had a fairly fluid idea of what that could look like for ourselves and for each other and possibly for others in the future.”

What in the actual fuck? 

“Okay,” Raven replies, completely bewildered. 

“Can I just say one more thing?” Clarke asks.

“Knock yourself out,” Raven replies. She has no clue what’s going on with this conversation. One more thing isn’t likely to help or hurt much at this point. 

“Bell’s gonna lay low for a while. He’s not going to come around here much and we’ll try and keep our partnership out of your face, at least for a few weeks.” Clarke gives her a sad, crooked half smile before continuing. “But he really likes you. So maybe you can just consider that over the next few weeks. And maybe we can revisit this conversation again.” 

Raven nods, but frankly still has no clue what exactly Clarke’s saying. Is she being cryptic on purpose? It’s like Clarke’s trying to prepare Raven for something, but is holding 90 percent of the information back. Clarke just nods her head a few times like she’s settled on something, and then backs out of the space with a quiet “Goodnight.”

Raven doesn’t reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna be lame and blame the holidays and all the gift fic I was writing on why this chapter took so long to get out. Hope you dug the chapter. Let me know, yeah? 
> 
> As always, you can also find me on [tumblr](http://peacefulboo.tumblr.com) if you're so inclined. I'm always open to talking about fic or the show or puppies and how they won't sit still so you can take fun pictures. Or you can drop head canons in my ask box. That's always fun. Hope y'all have a badass rest of your week! I'm going to go crash facedown on my bed now. ::waves::


	5. Chapter 5

Clarke’s too busy over the next week to really worry about what to do about the Bellamy situation. She and Raven are rarely at home at the same time as they both gear up for the end of the semester and, since it’s a college town through and through, everyone else also seems to be going through the week with their heads down and paper cups of coffee in hand. 

She’s pretty sure she did B-level work on her final in her organic chem class and she finishes the three papers she has due at the last minute, but she’s not terribly worried. She doesn’t even really have to bullshit her papers most of the time since she mostly enjoys the topics and doesn’t mind the writing. That her extra focus on school gives her a little breathing room from her new roommate and her partner, well that’s just an extra bonus. 

But the week and the semester come to a close and just like that, Clarke has a fuck ton of free time on her hands. She sleeps a lot that first week, but the urge to draw eventually takes over and she’s soon filling up one of her lower quality sketchbooks. 

Raven is often the subject. She justifies it by saying it’s practice. And it is, but it’s also just because she’s compelling. As the week has gone on, Raven leaves her partition open more and more. She comes out into the common space and studies at the coffee table, naps on the couch, or pulls together a quick dinner. She’s still gone a lot in that first week, but once school is over for the semester, she’s home almost as often as Clarke is.

Today Raven’s lounging on the couch, empty cereal bowl discarded on the coffee table, laptop in her lap and headphones in. She’s bouncing her head in time to the music and occasionally singing lines of whatever song she’s listening to. Her hair is a riot of waves around her face and it reminds Clarke of the first day they met, so once again Clarke gets her sketchbook out and starts to draw what she sees. Occasionally, Raven will smile or laugh at whatever it is she’s reading, and to Clarke it’s breathtaking. 

“Are you drawing me again?” Raven’s question startles Clarke from her focus. 

“Yup.”

“My hair is greasy, I have cereal breath and I’m pretty sure my sweatshirt has toothpaste on it from last week. What the hell, Clarke?”

“Toothpaste is a good look for you,” Clarke replies. She puts the book down and climbs out of bed to join Raven on the couch. 

“What’s got you smiling so big?”

Raven moves her laptop off her lap for a second to pull up the blanket covering her lap so that Clarke can get under it, too, before settling the laptop back on her legs and angling it slightly to show her the video Raul had posted on his facebook page the night before. It involves a little kid explaining how gravity works by falling over and over. It’s dumb but amusing. They fall down the youtube rabbit hole after that, showing each other their favorite videos and laughing their asses off. 

They stop when Raven gets a Skype message from Ximena (on Raul’s account) asking if they can video chat. Raven agrees, her whole demeanor softening as her cousin’s face pops up on the screen. 

“Hey, Nena!” 

“Prima!”

“Does Raul know you’re on his computer?”

“Yes. He had to put in his password,” the little girl answered, sounding not a little put out. 

“That was probably smart of him,” Raven tells her. 

Clarke sits back and listens in on the conversation for a little bit before running over to her bed and grabbing her pencils and sketch book and then coming back to the couch again. Ximena’s telling Raven a story about a puppy and a balloon that’s half in Spanish, but Clarke starts to draw the images that come to mind. She attempts a more cartooning style than she normally goes for, but it’s not half bad and as the conversation wraps up - they’d moved on to what the little girl wanted for Christmas and what she’d eaten for breakfast and how she missed school and Raven and girls in general - Clarke has finished a halfway decent illustration of the climax of Ximena’s story. 

She sets the sketchbook to the side and rests her head back against the cushions, closing her eyes and letting the conversation wash over her. Raven nudges her as she’s about to fall asleep and points at the sketch. 

“Can I show it to her?” she whispers. Her eyes are bright and kind as Clarke nods. 

“Look what Clarke drew, Nena!” She holds the book up so the camera can capture the image and Clarke can’t help but smile when the little girl gushes about how cute the puppy is. 

“That’s exactly what it looked like! How did she know?!”

“You described it very clearly,” Clarke replies. This is the first time she’s said anything since the conversation started. 

“Wait. She’s there?” Ximena asks a little confused, like she’s forgotten that just because she can’t see the rest of the room, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. 

“Yeah. Want to meet her?” 

“Yes!”

Clarke leans in so she’s in the frame and waves. “Hi!”

“Hi! Your picture is awesome!”

“Thank you,” she replies with a smile. “You’re very good at telling stories.”

“I am, no?” 

Clarke smiles and nods enthusiastically. 

“You are.”

“Could you bring the picture to me on Christmas?”

“Nena,” Raven warns. The little girl is still learning what is and is not an appropriate request. 

“Probably not at Christmas, kiddo, but maybe soon,” Clarke concedes. 

Ximena has to get off the computer a few minutes later since her brother is leaving. 

“What are you doing for Christmas?” Raven asks. She knows that Clarke’s mom and step-dad are headed to Hawaii for the holiday. She and Bellamy usually spend most of the holiday together but Octavia got engaged during the summer, so there’s been talk of Bellamy heading up to the ski village where Lincoln’s family lives to spend the holiday with his sister and her future family through weekend. 

Christmas isn’t really a big deal for Clarke, so she’ll likely just hang out in her apartment eating too many sugar cookies and watching Die Hard and White Christmas. She’ll exchange gifts with her loved ones when it’s convenient sometime during Christmas break but other than that, it’s just a break like any other. One with lots of songs about bells in the background. 

“Nothing much. My mom and Kane are going to Hawaii with Grandma Vera and Bellamy will be in the mountains with Lincoln and Octavia. It’s just me and Bruce Willis and Rosemary Clooney,” she says with a smile. 

“That’s not right,” Raven shakes her head, an exaggerated look of pity on her face. 

“It’s not that big a deal. Christmas isn’t much of a thing in our family.”

“I can appreciate that.”

Clarke’s eyes are growing heavy and despite the fact that she only got up 5 hours ago, she decides a nap is in order, so she snuggles into the corner of the couch and closes her eyes. She’s about to fall asleep when she feels Raven’s eyes on her. 

“Why are you staring at me?”

“Cause you’re cute as hell right now.” 

That answer startles Clarke a little and she opens one eye to look back at Raven. 

“Nope. _You’re_ cute. And I’m sleepy.” 

“Oh, you’re absolutely right. Thanks for setting me straight.” The sarcasm is thick in Raven’s voice.

“Shhh,” Clarke shushes her, “I’m going to sleep now.“

She snuggles into the corner again and lets her body relax into the cushions. 

“Clarke,” Raven whispers a few minutes later. 

“Hmm?” 

“My family is nuts, but if you want, you’re welcome to chill with us on Christmas day.” 

“I’ll think about it. I wouldn’t want to crash,” she replies without opening her eyes. 

“Everyone else brings their girlfriends, so I don’t see why I couldn’t bring you,” Raven replies.

“Girlfriend, huh?” Clarke asks, amusement as heavy in her voice as the sleepiness.

“Shut up, you know what I mean,” Raven replies. 

Clarke’s one hundred percent sure that Raven is rolling her eyes and can’t help but continue, “Nope. You lumped me in with the girlfriends. I’m not letting you back out now.” 

“Do you want to come or not?” Raven asks, nudging Clarke’s sock covered foot.

“Can I think about it?” 

“Nope. I need an answer right now. Right this very second.” 

“Sounds like someone had a little extra sarcasm in her coffee this morning. I’m going to let you know it’s not becoming,”

“ _You’re_ not becoming,” Raven answers petulantly. 

***

Clarke only stays at the Sanchez’s house for a few hours, not wanting to impose, but she has fun. There’s a lot of laughter, a lot of food, and wall to wall people in the small, three bedroom bungalow. Every one of her senses is on overload from the second she walks in the door and Raul hugs her tight, lifting her in the air for a brief moment. His cheeks are red and his eyes a little glassy so it’s pretty obvious he’s already had a few beers, but at least he’s a happy drunk. His girlfriend, Veva, just rolls her eyes, introduces herself, and then leads him to a different room once Raven shows up. 

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Raven tells her, smiling, but it’s one of those smiles that’s begging to be rescued. 

“No worries. I like him,” Clarke reassures her. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Christmas is just hard,” Raven admits quietly. 

Clarke immediately pulls her friend into a hug - a full-on bear hug at that. It takes a few seconds for Raven to return it, but she eventually relaxes into the embrace for a few moments, before squeezing Clarke a little tighter to signal that the hug is over. Clarke takes the cue and squeezes back before placing a quick kiss on Raven’s cheek and letting go.

Raven shakes her head and cocks her head toward the kitchen. “We should get you a plate and a beer.” 

Their path to the kitchen is interrupted several times as Raven is required to introduce her roommate to other family members. Most greet her with a polite nod of the head, but Raven’s Tia takes her hand and pats it between the two of hers, exclaiming how nice it is to meet her and gushing about how much she loved the pictures of her mural that Josue and Raul had apparently snuck onto their phone. 

“Thank you! I’m glad you liked it,” she replies, accepting the praise as graciously as she can. 

They finally make it to the food table and Clarke realizes that her plans to only eat a little are completely shot. The food looks amazing. There are chile rellenos, four different kinds of tamales and some sort of soup, which Raven tells her is called posole, all spread out on the table. There are also two different kinds of cookie, one that looks kind of like a snickerdoodle and another that is covered in powdered sugar. It’s all good. Very, very good. 

“I’m a little bit in love with the cheese and spinach tamales,” Clarke tells Raven once they’ve finished eating and have claimed a corner spot in the small living room. 

“They’ve grown on me. When I was little I thought they were the worst,” Raven replies. “Also, you can probably take home half a dozen if you want to. Tia is the only one who really likes them and she always makes too many.”

“Right on,” Clarke replies, stoked that she’ll have lunch for the next couple of days. 

“Sorry about the beer,” Raven says after a few moments of silence. 

“No worries. Bellamy may be a beer snob, but I don’t exactly feel like Negra Modelo is slummin’ it,” Clarke says, waving away her apology. Bellamy insists that any beer that can be substantially improved with a wedge of any type of citrus must be shit to begin with. Clarke will occasionally buy a six pack of Modelo or Blue Moon just to piss him off. 

It’s the first time Bellamy’s name has come up in conversation since Raven moved in (which is a miracle when she actually considers it) and Clarke has to swallow down an apology. Raven doesn’t seem phased by the reference, so Clarke lets it go. She’s about to tell Raven that she should head out soon when Ximena comes running up to them and plops herself in front of the pair, a huge smile on her face. 

“Hey Nena! You remember Clarke, right?” 

“She drew my story,” Ximena answers. 

“Oh! I forgot. I have something for you,” Clarke tells the little girl. She reaches into her bag and pulls out the illustration she’d drawn during their Skype conversation. She cleaned it up a little and added some coloring. 

“I can keep it?” the little girl asks when Clark hands her the page. 

“Of course!” Clarke answers, only to find herself with her arms full with the grateful seven-year-old. 

“Thank you!”

Clarke can barely get out a, “You’re welcome,” before Ximena’s run off to show her mom and brothers her gift. 

“I didn’t know you’d done more with it,” Raven murmurs, a small, almost shy smile on her face. 

Clarke shrugs, a little bit embarrassed. “She seemed to like it the other day, so I figured she might want it.”

“She loves it. I think you’ve just made yourself a fan for life.” Raven leans a little, bumping her shoulder against Clarke’s in a teasing gesture. They stay sitting on the floor in the corner of the room with their arms touching for the rest of the night, watching the rest of the family talking and playing card games. 

Clarke snorts when she hears Raven’s Uncle joke about how Ximena now has a “Clarke Griffin Original” as if she’s Andy Warhol or Van Gogh. 

Raven and Clarke are eventually bullied into playing several - vicious - rounds of Spoons, and Raven ends up with a gouge in the top of her hand from Veva’s wicked-long fingernails. They’d both reached for the last spoon at the same time. Raven came out with the spoon, but she paid for it with blood. 

Clarke takes her leave shortly after. Once they’ve got their jackets on and Clarke has her bag and keys out, Raven follows her outside.

“I’m glad you came,” she tells Clarke. 

Raven hugs Clarke this time. Again it’s a long, warm embrace that has Clarke tucking her face into the crook of Raven’s neck and mumbling, “I’m glad I came, too. I hope your Christmas was better this year.”

Raven pulls away and looks at Clarke, her expression serious. “It was. For a lot of reasons, it was.”

Clarke nods in acceptance of that cryptic answer before turning to unlock her car door. “Will you be back at the apartment tomorrow?”

“Should be, yeah.” 

“Okay, then. See you tomorrow,” Clarke replies and it takes a lot of self-control for her to keep her hands to herself when all she wants to do is hug the fuck out of this girl one more time. 

***

Clarke’s phone rings as she walks through her front door. 

“Hey Bell, Merry Christmas.” Clarke can’t keep the hint of sadness out of her voice. 

“Hi. How’d it go?”

“It was good. Eye opening.” Clarke pauses. “She’s got a great family.”

“That’s good.” He sounds exhausted. Much more exhausted than someone on their third day on vacation should sound. 

“You okay, Bell?” Clarke asks. She switches the phone to speaker as she pulls off her outerwear and then her pants. She strips off her shirt and bra before pulling on the sweatshirt she’s been sleeping in since the weather turned so cold. She crawls into her bed, suppressing a hiss at how fucking cold the sheets are right now wish she’d taken the time to turn on the electric blanket before taking off her pants.

“Just missing you,” he replies. She’s pretty sure she’s not the only one he’s missing. And she’s definitely starting to get it. 

“You still planning on coming back Sunday?”

“I’m thinking Saturday now. Lincoln’s family is great but I’m pretty sure I’ll be all skii’d out by Saturday afternoon.”

“Text me when you’re an hour out and I’ll meet you at your apartment,” Clarke replied.

“You hate my apartment,” he scoffs. 

She does. His apartment is bland and so utilitarian and she always, always gets the urge to paint the walls lime green when she’s there. She claims it’s a space that feels completely devoid of him. Like he’s been staying in a hotel for the last 4 years. 

He normally just replies that her place has always been more home to him than his apartment. Always would be. 

“I love you more than I hate your place,” she reminds him. “And I miss you too much right now to give a shit about your damn eggshell walls.”

“I love you, too, lady,” Bellamy replies, a smile evident in his voice. “You don’t usually miss me when I’m gone for less than a few days. What gives?”

“I dunno. I’m just feeling off. Like something’s about to change.”

“Good change? Or bad?” 

“Can’t tell,” Clarke replies. She’s taken to worrying her bottom lip between her teeth lately, which is annoying as hell since it means she has to use even more chapstick than normal during this winter and she honestly didn’t think that was possible. 

“We’re gonna be fine, Clarke,” Bellamy reassures her. 

“All of us?” Clarke asks, finally broaching the untouched topic of Raven. 

“I hope so.”


	6. Chapter 6

Raven is taking a nap on the couch three days into the new year, cocooned in all the blankets she owns, when she hears a banging on their door. She makes her way to the door sluggishly, yawning the whole way. When she looks through the peephole she sees Clarke on the other side. 

“Just a second! I have to get the locks!” She makes quick work of the locks on the door and opens the door wide so Clarke, whose arms are occupied with four extremely full reusable grocery bags, can come in. 

Clarke sets the groceries down with a sigh and shakes out her arms and hands, hoping to ease the strain. She then methodically starts pulling food items out of the bags, putting some away but leaving a large assortment of vegetables on the counter. 

“I’m pretty sure that if I don’t get a fuck ton of vegetables into me in the next few days, my body is going to go on strike. I figured I’d make a pot of veggie soup and cut up some raw carrots and celery and cucumbers to snack on.” Clarke starts washing the vegetables before pulling out a cutting board and knife and getting to work. 

“That’s a lot of produce,” Raven replies as she looks at the array of squash and root vegetables and greens. “Need some help?”

“Sure. Can you start on the carrots? Maybe five of them in those little rounds that are good for soup and the rest in sticks for snacks?”

“Do you want me to peel them?”

“Nah. Just make sure they’re washed pretty well,” Clarke responds before turning back to the head of cabbage she’s shredding. Raven watches her for a few moments, amused by how focused she is in that moment, as if shredding the cabbage is the most important thing in her universe. 

She’s learned that about Clarke over the last six weeks. She’s focused as hell. Whatever it is she’s doing, be it sketching or studying or making dinner, she’s all in. If Raven finds the way she scrunches her nose when she’s thinking hard to be a little more attractive than expected, well she’s just not going to think about it much. 

Once the soup is simmering away, they spend the afternoon getting ready for the coming week. Raven is planning to work extra at the garage in order to help ease the backlog that inevitably happens every time they have any sort of long weekend. She’s been a little bored the last week so she doesn’t mind. It will be good to keep her hands busy once again, and now that she’s paying rent it’s always nice to have a little extra scratch. 

The sun’s been down for a few hours when Clarke asks Raven if she’s down to watch a movie. Raven agrees but has to roll her eyes when Clarke is appalled that she has never seen the movie she’s picked out. 

“I can’t believe you’ve never seen Mean Girls,” Clarke says, sounding incredulous. 

Raven didn’t really grow up watching many movies, so she just raises her eyebrows in response. 

“It’s called Mean Girls, Clarke. Not exactly something the guys were excited about watching when they were 15 and 16.”

“They don’t know what they’re missing then. Sucks to be them,” Clarke replies. “Is it cool if we watch it in my bed? I’m getting sick of this damn couch and I’ve got an electric blanket that’s calling my name.”

It’s been a cold winter and with so many windows and such high ceilings the loft is murder to heat. Plus Clarke has an actual tv in her area of the loft so they won’t have to rely on her laptop and it’s too-quiet speakers. 

“Yeah, that will work. I’m thinking of either getting an electric blanket or one of those heated mattress pads. I’d almost gotten used to sleeping with a human heater,” Raven says, cutting herself off when she realizes who she was talking about and who she’s talking to. 

“Oh man, Bell’s the biggest bed hog. But he does make an amazing heater,” Clarke replies with a soft smile. 

Raven just nods in agreement before looking down at her phone, pretending to check her messages. She’s a little surprised to see one from her father. 

“Huh,” she says before she can stop herself. Her dad left when she was twelve, a few months after her mother died of alcohol poisoning. He’s popped up a few times -- once around her sixteenth birthday and again the Christmas after she turned twenty -- but it’s not like he was especially present even before her mom died, and she’s gotten very, very good at managing her expectations. Still, she can’t help but get a little sad when he does show up. 

“Huh?” Clarke mimics back, curiosity evident in her voice. “Everything okay?”

“Oh. Yeah. It’s just my dad,” she replies, tipping the phone screen toward Clarke. 

“Your dad?” Clarke asks. Raven’s impressed with how neutral she manages to keep that question. She’s pretty sure Clarke and Bellamy both assumed that both her parents were dead. She never felt the need to correct that assumption. 

“Yeah. He showed up at Christmas after you left. It’s been a while since I’d seen him. And he left pretty quickly.” Raven isn’t sure how to talk about him. She isn’t sure how she feels about him at all. 

“Why’d he leave?” Clarke asks. Raven isn’t sure which time Clarke’s referring to but it doesn’t really matter. The answer’s the same either way. 

“I think I’m not what he wishes I would be.” Raven figured out a long time ago that her dad had expectations that she’d never be able to realize for him. She’d never be her mother. 

“I’m sorry he can’t be what you wish he would be,” Clarke responds softly. And just like that the floodgates open and Raven has tears running down her face. She’s not sobbing, though sometimes she’d wish her body would let her process her feelings that way because she is so very sad in this moment. 

“Oh, Raven,” Clarke whispers, before wrapping her arms around Raven. Raven lets herself be surrounded by Clarke’s warmth and buries her face in Clarke’s neck and lets the tears fall. Clarke doesn’t say anything else, she just keeps her arms around her friend and lets her cry. 

It has been a long damn time since anyone has held Raven as she cries. 

“I’m okay,” Raven reassures Clarke after a few minutes. “I guess I’m just usually so pissed off that I forget to be sad.” Raven pulls out of the hug and reaches over to grab a tissue from Clarke’s night stand. She wipes her eyes and nose, then immediately returns to her spot in Clarke’s arms, allowing herself the comfort. They’ve slid down a bit so they’re closer to laying down than sitting up, but it doesn’t seem like Clarke cares very much. “I’m normally fine. I accepted a long ass time ago that it’s just how life is now. And looking back, I can see they were both really shitty parents.”

Clarke is running her fingers through Raven’s hair, alternating between massaging Raven’s scalp and combing her fingers through her hair. “I think when it comes to our folks, part of us never really grows up. We always have expectations and hopes. Even when they’re dead, sometimes.” She drops a kiss to the top of Raven’s head and Raven sighs, burrowing deeper into Clarke. ”I’d imagine that having a parent alive, but having them choose to be gone would be the hardest thing,” Clarke continues. 

“Pretty much, yeah,” Raven agrees. 

They lay like that for a few minutes just taking comfort from each other’s presence. 

“You’re loved, though,” Clarke states after a few moments of quiet. “You know that, right?”

And she does. Raven’s loved by her extended family. A lot. But something in Clarke’s voice has her pulling out of her roommate’s embrace. Raven peers at Clarke for a moment, trying to figure out exactly what she means. What she sees in Clarke’s eyes startles her. 

“Love, though?” Raven asks, disbelief coloring her question. 

Clarke shrugs. “I think so, yeah,” she replies. She says it so matter of fact that Raven has to laugh a little. 

“You’re crazy, Clarke,” she tells her. Because this is crazy. But then Raven realizes she’s got a big ol’ damn smile on her own face. Huh. 

“Maybe.”

“No maybe about it,” Raven says, but instead of getting up and leaving the warmth of Clarke’s bed and crawling into her own cold bed, she lays back down next to Clark and closes her eyes. “We’re going to sleep now. I think I need daylight for the rest of this conversation.” 

“Okay.” Clarke grabs the remote to turn off the tv and then moves to turn off the lamp that rests on her bedside table. They never did get around to the movie.

“Just… just one thing,” Raven says before Clarke turns the light off.

“Yeah?”

“Um. Just this,” Raven breathes out before leaning over and kissing Clarke. 

It’s a sweet kiss. A little tentative. Chaste, really, but Raven feels it all the way to her toes. She wants more. She does, but she also just really, really wants to sleep. So she pulls back and smiles at Clarke. 

And Clarke’s smiling back. 

“We’re definitely talking in the morning,” Raven repeats before settling down again. This time she turns so she’s partly on her side and partly laying on her belly so she can wrap her arm around Clarke and pull her toward her. 

They both sleep insanely well that night, all things considered. 

***

Bellamy is taken completely off guard when he gets a message from Raven the next morning asking to meet him for breakfast. He chooses to take it as a good sign, but a good sign of what, he’s not entirely sure. 

He’s even more surprised when she greets him at the diner with a long, tight hug. He immediately wraps her up in his arms in response, though. She hadn’t been in his life for very long, but damn he’d missed her. 

“Hi,” she says, ducking her head down as she pulls back. She settles into one side of a booth and for a split second Bellamy almost slides in next to her, but decides not to push his luck and instead moves to take the bench across from her. 

He’s about to ask her how she’s been doing when the server comes up and offers them coffee. They both accept, turning the mugs already on the table over so the server can fill them. They already know what they want to eat, so they order their food right away and then are left alone. 

“It’s good to see you,” Bellamy starts. She looks tired but happy. Which makes him happy in turn. And maybe a little sad that he’s not the one who made her happy, but that’s a jackass thought so he puts it out of his head. 

“It’s good to be seen,” she replies with a bit of a smirk. 

Bellamy refrains from rolling his eyes and takes a sip of his coffee to hide his smile. 

“How’s the living situation?” he inquires. He’s never been the type to avoid the awkward topics when they’re the most important ones. 

“Good. Really good,” she replies. The smile on her face changes from a smirk to this soft, sweet smile that looks a little out of place on her face. Not bad, just not entirely at home. 

“Sounds like there’s a story there.”

“There is. I kissed her last night,” Raven states. He remembers she’s never been one to avoid awkward conversations either. 

He isn’t sure what he feels when he actually processes what she’s said. Surprise is in there, but so is sadness and jealousy and loss. 

“Oh.” It’s all he can say, really. He recovers relatively well, but can’t come up with something to say or ask. Luckily, Raven continues. 

“Yeah. Right? It’s weird,” she says. “Except it wasn’t weird at all. It was just this little kiss. Kinda quick. But one of the only things I could think of when I woke up this morning next to her, was that I really, really wanted to tell you. And that I wished you were there, too.” She shrugs and smiles at him again. He can see that there are tears in her eyes and his heart aches. 

He and Clarke don’t work that way. They don’t share lovers. They don’t. 

Do they? 

“And now?”

“I miss you.” This time her smile is wide and bright as sunshine. “I think I love you.”

“I think I love you, too,” he tells her, taking her hand from where it rests on the table and lacing his fingers with hers. “But —” he cuts himself off, unsure of what else to say. Because there’s way too much to say. 

“Clarke,” Raven supplies.

“Clarke,” he agrees. 

“I think I love her, too.” 

“Well, that’s convenient. Me too,” he jokes, trying to give them some breathing room. 

Their food comes and Raven asks him about his Christmas. He tells her about how much he begrudgingly likes Lincoln and his family, but how exhausting he found the whole experience. 

She tells him about her Christmas, including her father’s visit. He squeezes her hand in response but doesn’t push to know more since they’re in public. 

They make quick work of their breakfasts, and in no time they’re heading out toward their cars. 

“So, now what?” Raven asks him. 

“Now, we go talk to Clarke.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter left. Thanks for all the love. It's lovely and precious and I appreciate every note I get. There are so many awesome fics you could be reading and sticking with but for some reason you're choosing this one. That's so happy-making. Let me know what you think of this chapter. 
> 
> And as always you can find me over at [tumblr](http://peacefulboo.tumblr.com)


	7. doing what people who dig each other do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gets somewhat more explicit than the previous chapters. Hope you dig it!

“We don’t share,” Clarke says, taking a tentative sip of her tea. She’s sitting on the worn, green couch by herself. Bellamy is standing by the windows, looking down toward the street below and Raven has curled up in the armchair, her oversized sweater stretched out over her knees. 

“Nope,” Bellamy agrees. He shrugs as he turns toward them, perching on the top of the low, sturdy bookshelves that line the wall below the windows. Clarke doesn’t miss the soft smirk that’s gracing his mouth. 

She gets the message. Just because they’ve never done something, doesn’t mean they never should. 

“What exactly are you two proposing?” Clarke asks, trying to keep the hope out of her voice. 

“Ew. Bad choice of word, Clarke,” Raven wrinkles her nose and then raises her eyebrows at Clarke. 

“Focus,” she begs them. She suddenly has visions of being tag teamed by the two of them in more ways than one. The vision she has in her head of the three of them in her bed, Raven and Bellamy teasing her until she’s going nuts has her sucking in a deep breath. 

Fuck. She wants that. 

“We do what people who dig the hell out of each other do, Clarke,” Bellamy answers. He heads over to where she’s huddled up on the couch and drops down to sit beside her, leaving some space between them and keeping up the unspoken agreement that none of them will touch until they’ve hashed this out. 

“That’s very helpful, asshole,” Clarke bites out, still frustrated. She realizes that she’s overreacting to their casual approach to the conversation so far. Normally she’s able to relax and roll with the punches, but so much rests on how this conversation ends. She’s on the verge of crying, and that has her even more pissed off. 

All she wants is to go back to last night, when she and Raven fell asleep in each other’s arms and the idea of having it all was a hazy promise instead of a messy reality. 

“Bellamy,” Raven says quietly in reproach. That’s all. Just his named released on an exhale, and he sighs heavily. 

“C’mere,” Bellamy encourages. 

Raven stares at him for a beat, before slowly trudging over to the couch. He points to the small space between him and Clarke, but stubbornly refuses to scoot over to actually make more room for Raven, forcing her to wedge herself in between the two of them. 

Bellamy reaches his arm along the back of the cushions and beckons Clarke toward them with his fingers. “C’mon, Clarke.”

Clarke sighs with a half-assed frown. So much for their unspoken agreement. She gives in quickly, though, letting her body sink into Raven’s side and relaxing as Bellamy’s hand finds its way into her hair. She snakes her own hand across Raven’s lap and finds Bellamy’s, lacing her fingers through his. 

And just like that, the anxious swirling in her belly calms. 

“So what do people who really dig each other do, exactly?” Raven asks. 

“This,” he replies, dropping a kiss to the crown of her head and squeezing Clarke’s hand. “They spend time together, talk, sleep together, eat together. All the things we’ve already done. Just all together.”

“You make it sound so fucking simple,” Clarke groans. She rests her head on Raven’s shoulder as she watches the dust floating through the air in the beam of light that’s flooding through the window and hitting a wine glass that had been left on the coffee table. 

“It isn’t simple,” he acknowledges. 

“It is and it isn’t,” Raven concedes. “The friendship stuff? The being around each other and snuggling and watching movies and making meals, that part might be relatively simple. But the sleeping together? How are we going to work that out?” 

“What does your gut tell you?” Clarke asks. 

“My gut says that I really, really like the idea of being with both of you together, but that it will likely be overwhelming and that sometimes I’ll need to be with just you, or just him. Or by myself.”

“Does the thought of just me and Clarke sleeping together, or having sex, or going on dates just the two of us make you anxious?”

Raven stays quiet for a moment before answering, “No. Not really. I think that it takes some of the pressure off, if that makes sense.” She hesitates again before turning to him and asking, “What about you? Does the thought of me being with Clarke here, in our home, sleeping together and living together and touching each other, sometimes without you -- does that make you anxious?” 

Clarke half expects him to make a joke here, but instead he just gets a quiet, contemplative look on his face and says, “No. Knowing you’re taking care of each other is good. As long as I get to crash your party now and then.” He shrugs. “What about you, Clarke?”

“It’s not like this is new,” she replies. “But I think that maybe we should try just being the three of us for a while. No one else.”

“My thoughts, exactly. You two are going to give me enough of a run for my money,” he winks down at her. And, well, that _is_ new. 

“You bet your ass we will,” Raven says, butting her head against his shoulder and jostling Clarke a bit in the process. 

“Hey,” she gripes out. 

“Pobrecita,” Raven rolls her eyes. 

Clarke looks up at her, mock glaring. And then just as playfully, she stretches out a bit and kisses Raven, a quick smacking of lips against lips. Raven scrunches her nose and smiles down at her before leaning down to kiss her more fully. Clarke pulls back for a second and moves to straddle Raven’s legs and Bellamy has to back up just a touch so her knee isn’t stabbing into his thigh. Instead he turns so he’s facing them, watching for a few seconds before brushing Clarke’s messy hair off her neck and kissing and sucking his way from her shoulder to just behind her ear. 

Raven pulls away from Clarke and coaxes Bellamy’s mouth away from Clarke’s neck. Clarke watches the way their mouths and tongues play against each other and she can feel the flush bloom across her face and chest.

They’re gorgeous together. So she watches them from her perch in Raven’s lap, one hand on the back of Raven’s neck, with her thumb rubbing lightly against the side of her throat and her other hand sneaks its way under Bellamy’s shirt. She leaves them to make out for a few moments before clearing her throat, causing them to separate, all smiles and glassy eyes. 

“There’s a bed right over there,” she points out. 

“A very comfy bed,” Raven agrees, her eyes on Clarke now. 

Bellamy chuckles and leans against the back of the couch. “Just so we’re clear, you two have never...”

“Nope,” Clarke answers. “Well, I’ve had sex with women before,” she clarifies. 

Raven crinkles her nose at that but then just shrugs. “I’ve neither had sex with Clarke or another woman.”

“You two want me to leave you to it?” Bellamy asks.

Raven shakes her head right away. “No. Definitely don’t need you to leave us to it.”

He looks to Clarke and she smiles and nods, “You’re staying, Bell.”

Clarke leans over to kiss his jaw quickly, then bounces in Raven’s lap a huge smile on her face. “So. Bed?”

“Bed,” Raven agrees tapping Clarke’s thigh a couple of times to encourage her to move. 

Clarke strips on her way to her sleeping area. She’s buck ass naked by the time she gets there and Raven just stands and stares for a moment. Clarke can tell Raven’s turned on, but she would really love to be in Raven’s head in that moment. 

“She’s hot,” Raven says as she smiles wide. Bellamy nods in agreement, already down to his boxer briefs. He loses those quickly as well, and then climbs onto the other side of the bed. 

“You want some help?” Clarke asks Raven from where she kneels on the bed. 

Raven slowly walks to the side of the bed, just into Clarke’s reach. Clarke starts to undo the buttons of her flannel, but Raven just scoffs, and pulls it over her head, buttons still fastened. Clarke runs her hands up underneath Raven’s cami but leaves it on, placing a long, lingering kiss at the top of her cleavage. Her fingers skate up Raven’s belly and up to the underside of her breasts before dragging them back down her sides. With her her mouth still against Raven’s sternum, she pushes her leggings and underwear down and Raven shivers, both from the cold and from what Clarke’s tongue is doing. 

Clarke moves her mouth just long enough to pull off the cami, then nips lightly at the top of Raven’s right breast. She pulls back to look at Raven, seeing her completely naked for the first time. 

“Fuck. You’re gorgeous. Just all of you is so fucking gorgeous,” she whispers. 

“Ugh. You’re a talker?” Raven asks, but the fond smile on her face belies her annoyance. “You didn’t tell me she was a talker,” she accuses Bellamy. 

“Don’t worry. She gets distracted fairly quickly.” 

Clarke can practically feel the smirk in his words. 

“You know you fucking love it, Bellamy,” she says without looking back to him, or really even allowing her lips to leave Raven’s soft skin. 

“I do,” he agrees and she feels him shift and kiss the small of her back. 

“As adorable as you two are right now, I need to get into the damn bed before my nipples fall off from the cold,” Raven tells them. She’s visibly shivering where she’s standing at the side of the bed. 

“Poor baby,” Clarke tells her with a pout, before hopping off the bed and pulling the covers back. Bellamy does the same on his side and they all climb in, Clarke maneuvering so Raven’s got the spot in the middle, for now. 

They’re a tangle of limbs and skin and hands and tongues for the rest of the morning. Clarke spends much of the it with her mouth and teeth and fingers occupied getting Raven off. 

“You have a pretty vulva,” Clarke tells her after Raven has recovered a bit from her latest orgasm. 

“Thanks?” Raven replies. She’s curled onto her belly, half draped over Bellamy who runs his fingers up and down her back. 

“Really! It’s gorgeous,” Clarke insists from where she’s laying. “Bellamy, tell her she has a gorgeous cunt.”

“Your pussy is very pretty,” Bellamy agrees, appeasing Clarke. “You both have exceptionally attractive vulvas.”

“See!” Clarke says triumphantly. 

They lay there quietly for a few moments, lightly rubbing over bits of skin. 

Raven reaches over to Clarke, turning her head so she can see her better. 

“I’ve always heard that women are better at eating pussy but, damn. I had no idea. You are fucking talented, girl.”

“Hey!”

“Shut up, Bell. You have an amazing dick. Which you can fuck me with now. You’re good at that,” Raven says through a laugh. It turns into a delighted squeal, when Bellamy growls playfully and flips her over. He grabs a condom from the night stand, puts it on, and proceeds to do as she’s asked. It doesn’t actually take all that much to get her to come again, Clarke’s done most of the work there, so it’s not long before Raven’s too overloaded for him to keep going. 

“Teach me how?” Raven asks, and it’s obvious to Clarke that she’s asking both of them. Bellamy may not have the instinct she has, but he’s got lots of experience, with women in general and with Clarke in particular. 

So they teach her. And, to Clarke’s utter delight, she picks it up ridiculously fast. 

***

Bellamy calls into work for the first time ever later that evening. 

“You’re really going to call in?” Clarke asks, wonder evident in her voice. 

“Yup,” he answers, pulling her down into his lap. 

“You’ve never called in,” she points out. 

“I don’t know about you, babe, but I’m way too wrecked to do anything but sit here and sleep,” he replies. 

“You hear that, Raven? We fucked him into exhaustion.” 

Clarke’s eyes are closed but Raven’s only response is to raise her eyebrows and sip on her tea. 

Bellamy leans back and Clarke gets a little more comfortable wedged between him and the arm of the couch. She seems to fall asleep quickly, her face resting against Bellamy’s chest. 

Raven watches them from where she’s once again curled up in the armchair. She’s completely fucking blissed out and pretty sure she’s never come that many times in such a short amount of time. Being in such close proximity to the other two, who are just as fucking satisfied, has her awash in hormones she’s not entirely sure she’s ready for. 

She’s happy, though. Really, really fucking happy, actually. She watches them snuggle with each other and smiles wider when she realizes that watching them together just makes her that much more enamored with them. She tries to find the jealousy she expects to feel as she watches Clarke nuzzle her jaw against his, rest her head against his shoulder and drift off to sleep, but it’s not there. 

She knows that if she wants to she can join them. Knows that when she’s ready she can curl up on either side and fall asleep too. For now she’s content.

She wakes up a few hours later to Bellamy’s hand on her shoulder. 

“We’re moving back to the bed. You want to go there or your own bed?” he asks. The look on his face is open and maybe a little curious. 

She realizes pretty quickly that she’s had enough of her own space for now, so she jerks her head toward Clarke’s bed. Bellamy gives her a reassuring look and extends his hand to help her up out of the chair. Raven groans as she stretches. 

“Thanks for waking me. If my neck feels like this after a few hours in that chair, I can’t imagine what it would feel like after an entire night.”

“You might have been more comfortable on the couch,” he tells her, his voice low and one hand traveling up to massage the base of her neck. Raven allows her head to fall against his chest as he works out the kinks. 

“I know. I just need a little space sometimes. Usually more than just sitting on a different piece of furniture, even.”

Bellamy just murmurs out a, “Hmmm,” in response. She shivers as she feels the vibration in her forehead. 

“Clarke already in bed?” she ask.

“Yeah. Had to carry her there,” he says with a smirk. “Want me to carry you?”

Raven shakes her head and scoffs, “I think I’ll pass.”

She grabs his hand and leads him over to the bed. She hesitates when she gets there, though. 

“You want me to take the middle?” he asks, his hand now resting on her back. 

She takes her time deciding. In the end, she shakes her head. “I’ll take it tonight.” 

Raven climbs in, curling herself around Clarke as she feels Bellamy settle in behind her. She was a little afraid she’d feel claustrophobic hemmed in like this, but instead the sound of Clarke’s sleep-heavy breathing and the warmth of Bellamy’s body curled around her lulls her to sleep within moments. 

***

 

Bellamy is stretched out on the couch in pajama pants and a t-shirt, reading a collection of Flannery O’Conner stories, while his girls are over by the windows, where Clarke is taking reference photographs of Raven for her long planned Maiden Mother Crone series. 

Clarke is blasting some old-school 90’s trip hop, which he hates to admit is growing on him. It’s still a weird ass choice but the repetitive nature of the music seems to help her slip into the zone. 

“You’re making that face again,” Clarke tells Raven. Bellamy can hear the smile in her voice, though. 

“You have a gazillion reference photos, Clarke,” Raven reminds her. “Why the hell do I need to be sitting here for this?” 

“Because I find torturing you to be a fun pastime,” Clarke retorts. 

“Where’s the lie?” Raven asks, as she pops down into a close-kneed squat, stretching her arms in front of her and rolling her neck to the side, causing her hair to fall over her shoulder and down her back. 

“There!” Clarke half-yells, and Raven freezes. They’ve done this a few times and Raven has learned, finally, to stay still and hold the pose when Clarke gets excited instead of letting it startle her. She pauses for a few more beats as Clarke gets a few shots from different angles. 

“You had to pick the most awkward ass pose, didn’t you,” Raven grumbles, and Bellamy chuckles. She’s managing okay but he can see that she’s not going to be able to hold her balance for long. “I’m going to topple over in about 10 seconds.”

“You can put one of your hands down if you need to,” Clarke tells her. 

“Or you can get all the pictures you’re going to need in ten seconds,” Raven answers. 

“Or I can get all the pictures I’m going to need in ten seconds,” Clarke concedes as she moves to get a few shots of one more angle and then lowers her camera. “Done.”

“Done, done? Or just done with that pose?” Raven asks as she sits fully down on the blood red, shag rug Clarke brought home last week, and stretches her legs out in front of her. 

“Done, done. You did amazing,” Clarke tells her as she plops down next to her on the carpet. 

“Yay,” Raven says with little enthusiasm, even though Bellamy knows she’s thrilled that it’s over. He turns so he’s laying on his side so he can watch them better. Raven lies back, stretching her arms above her head and arching her back for a few moments before letting her arms plop to her side in corpse pose. He still has to catch his breath every once in a while when he sees her laid out like that. 

“I should have put some clothes on before lying down because now I have no desire to get up,” Raven grumbles. She’s cold. She’s always cold, Bellamy knows. 

He rolls off the couch, pulling the heavy quilt off the back of the couch and dumping it unceremoniously on top of her. 

“Thank you,” she says, her voice muffled by the fabric. 

“You’re very welcome,” he replies as he joins them on the floor, pulls the blanket away from her face, and plants a kiss on her lips before pulling back and smiling at her. 

Clarke helps him spread out the blanket before crawling under it with Raven and curling her body around her. 

“Human heaters are the best,” Raven says as she closes her eyes. 

Bellamy reaches around her so his hand is on Clarke’s back. 

“Thank you for doing this for me, Raven,” Clarke says softly. 

“It wasn’t too bad,” Raven replies, but Bellamy can tell that she’s understating how out of her element she was. 

“I don’t believe that, but thank you anyway. I think that last pose will be perfect,” she assures her. 

“You’re welcome,” Raven says, quietly. 

“What time do you work, again, Bellamy?” Clarke asks.

“At four,” he answers.

“So we have three hours,” Raven says.

“Yep. Why?” he asks. 

“Time for me to not be the only one naked,” Raven replies, sitting up suddenly and pulling the them up with her and quickly tugging Clarke’s shirt off. 

Bellamy makes it into work that day, but he’s ten minutes late. His boss glares at him and the dumb ass grin that’s on his face. 

It’s worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading. And thanks a million to B for the beta and dealing with my wackness throughout this fic. This would be a very different piece without you. Let me know what you think of this chapter and the fic as whole, yeah? As usual, you can also come and say hi over at [tumblr](http://peacefulboo.tumblr.com)


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